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UB 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



( SMITHSONIAN DEPOSIT.) 

Chap lo'^ 

Shelf .J]a£ 
UNITED STATES OF America. 




MR. HAZARD'S DISCOURSE 



BEFORE THE 

> 
RHODE-ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 



Jommrj! IStl), 184S; 



D I S C U E S E 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 



RHODE-ISLANB HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 



ON THE EVENING OF 



(ilttesiJati, iFanuarji 18tl), 18^8: 



' ON THE CHARACTKR AND WRITINGS 



CHIEF JUSTICE r»TJRFEE, 



BY ROWLAND G. TIAZAllD, 



II 

Member of the R. I. Historicul Society. 



'^' 



'-^xii3>' 



PUBLISHED AT THE REQUEST OF THE SOCIETY, 



PROVIDENCE: 
CHARLES BURNETT, J R 

18 4 8. 






T. Albra, Printer. 



DISCOURSE 



Gentlemen of the Historical Society: 

This return of our anniversary, comes attended with circum- 
stances, which awaken in our bosoms, the conflicting emotions 
of exultation and Borrow. With its recurrence, the elate feel- 
ings of patriotic pride with which we here listened to the last 
annual discourse, again spring into being, with all their kind- 
ling and elevating influence's. But with these feelings, comes 
the painful reflection, that he who contributed so much to th6 
glory of that occasion, is no more among us ; that the voice 
which then so delighted and instructed us, is hushed in the si- 
lent grave. 

The events of that celebration may well form an era in the 
history of this Society, and of the State. By an efl"ort, most 
felicitous and powerful, the orator of that day so successfully 
wrought all our past history — facts and principles — that little 
seems left to those who may follow him in the same field of 
labor. 

The relations he held to this Society — his zealous efl'orts in 
aid of its objects — the fact that he officiated as orator at thfe 
last annual celebration, and then delivered the first of the con- 
templated series of yearly discourses — the important and hon- 
orable position he long held in the government of our State — 
his conspicuous literary position — the general expectation of 
the public, and the expressed wish of many of your number, 
indicate the character, services, and writings of our late hon- 
ored and beloved Chief Justice, as the prominent topic of this 
discourse, and which could I do them any justice, would cer- 
tainly form an appropriate and congenial theme for the occasion* 
I am not however, insensible either of the difficulties of the 



task, or of my oWn inability properly to perform the duty 
which the partiality of my friends has assigned me, and am 
o])pressed by the conviction that others more immediately 
connected, and more intimately acquainted with metaphysical 
and legal science, would have better conceived, and better por- 
trayed his services, in these important departments, than any 
efforts of mine can accomplish. I feel my incapacity to do jus- 
ice, even to my own conceptions of his vigorous mind and 
philosophic spirit; but most of all, do I feel incompetent to pre- 
sent to you any condensed and adequate idea of that towering 
fabric of philosophy he embodied in '' Panidea," and which, 
almost without figure of speech, may be characterized as an 
intrepid effort of genius to connect earth and sky. 

The intelligence of his death came suddenly upon us ; and 
the acute sense of unexpected and unestimated loss, which at 
first startled the public mind, reflection has now matured into a 
calm, but deep felt conviction that it is irreparable. In recur- 
ring to the events of his life, the most important of which seem 
clustered round its close, our first feeling is that of keen regret 
that his intellectual labours were thus suddenly arrested, just as 
^he had began to make his long hoarded thoughts known to the 
public, with such promise of celebrity to himself, of lustre to 
• our State, and of utility to the world. Another moment, and 
we shrink, as from a danger which we suddenly perceive we 
have narrowly escaped ; and rejoice that he lived to give us his 
Commencement Oration, Panidea, and his Discourse before 
the Historical Society. But for these, though he would still 
have been long remembered as the amiable and talented citi- 
zen, and the enlightened and upright judge ; and through 
his " Whatcheer," his claim to poetical genius of no com- 
mon order, would have been established ; his philosophical 
abilities would have been known only in a limited circle, and, 
even there, he might have been generally regarded as one pos- 
sessed of mental powers which he was too indolent to use. 
And this view would, perhaps, have been rather confirmed than 
otherwise, by the unfinished versification of his poem. Now 
how different ! The works alluded to, attest that the intellec- 
tual labour and persevering efforts of his whole life must have 



been applied to the vigorous and ardent pursuit of philosophical 
truth. They entitle him to a high place among those who 
have devoted their best energies to the advancement of their 
race. They are his title deeds to an enduring fame. Through 
them, his voice will be heard over a realm so extensive, that 
the time between their publication and his death was not suf- 
ficient for the return of its echo from the nearest boundary of 
the subdivisions of the wide domain. Had he been taken from 
this sphere of action, before these fruits of his philosophical la- 
bors had been matured, the voice of eulogy might have been 
required to grace his exit ; while only that of friendship could 
have done justice to his talents, and disclosed the industry and 
zeal with which he devoted them to the advancement of truth 
and the welfare of his race. 

But he has now spoken, through his works, a language which 
even eulogy need not wish to alter. I shall not then seek to 
praise : nor is it my purpose to attempt to stir the fountains of 
grief, already so deeply moved ; nor yet to assuage the sorrow 
which this event has occasioned. But, I would avail myself 
of the sensibility which it has naturally produced in the public 
mind, to impress it with some of the lessons of duty, virtue, 
and. wisdom bequeathed us by our departed fellow citizen. 

When we can no longer profit by the presence, when we 
can derive no further instruction and encouragement from the 
flowing precepts, and living examples of the wise and good, it 
is well to study such record of their thoughts, and meditate on 
such mementos of their actions as may still be within our reach, 
and give them that enduring place in the memory and aff"ec- 
tions, which shall continue, as far as possible, their happy influ- 
ences. Let their lives, perpetuated by the pen of the historian, 
and their virtues, embalmed in the verse of the poet, still lend 
attractions to pure principles, and incite to noble actions. 

Nor let these humble and more transitory efl'orts to kindle in- 
terest, in which we are now engaged, be wanting. The sympa- 
thetic and social feelings, which make a part of our being, 
seem to indicate these as the first appropriate mode of com- 
memoration ; a means of at once manifesting our admiration 
of the conduct, and our gratitude for the services of the de- 



ceased, and of securing, in frail material, the first impressions 
of those models of character which, in some more enduring 
form, we would transmit to posterity. To us, memory, vivid 
memory, can still supply much, which they can only receive 
through the labors of the painter and the sculptor, the his- 
torian and the poet. Low indeed, degraded beyond all prece- 
dent, must be the destiny of a people, when they shall cease 
to profit by the lessons of their illustrious dead. Through all 
time they have exerted the most powerful agency in moral, 
political, and social regeneration. 

And there is much, in the active life, and recorded thought 
of the distinguished citizen, whose loss we now deplore, wor- 
thy to be treasured up for the benefit of our own, and succeed- 
ing generations. It is true, his fame, though it had long since 
passed the boundary of his native country, and was extending 
with a rapidity accelerated by his recent achievements in the 
highest department of thought, had not yet become so brilliant, 
or so universal, as to make the event of his death of marked 
importance in distant lands ; yet the sphere of usefulness he 
here filled, the place he held in the confidence and the affec- 
tions of the community, the efforts he made to preserve and im- 
improve our institutions, his influence on our local character, 
and the glory he reflected on our literature, make it an occur- 
rence of absorbing interest to the people of this State. If the 
most notable event to the world is the arrival in it of a great 
thinker, surely the departure of one whose labors seemed only 
just commenced, must be of corresponding importance. 

The themes suggested by his position and his writings claim- 
ing our principal attention, we will present only a very brief 
chronological statement of the events of his life. 

Job Durfee was a native of Tiverton, and son of the late 
Hon. Thomas Durfee, for many years Chief Justice of the 
Court of Common Pleas for the county of Newport. He was 
liberally educated ; and took his bachelor's degree at Brown 
University, in the class of 1813. In May, 1816, some months 
previous to his admission to the bar, he was elected a Repre- 
sentative to the General Assembly from liis native town, and 



continued to be returned for the same place, by semi-annual' 
elections, for five years successively. 

At the March term of the Supreme Judicial Court for the 
county of Newport, he Avas admitted to practice as an Attorney 
and Counsellor in all the courts in this »State. In October 
1820, he was elected, conjointly with the Hon. Samuel Eddy, 
a Representative in Congress, and served through the 17th and 
18th Congresses. Having failed of his election to the 19th 
Congress, he was again returned by his fellow citizens of Tiv- 
erton, (October 1826,) to the State Legislature, and was Speak- 
er of the House, from October 1827, until May 1829. 

He then declined a re-election, and remained in private life, 
occupied chiefly with literary and agricultural pursuits, until 
May, 1833, when he was once more returned to the General 
Assembly. At the meeting of the two Houses that year, for 
the purpose of election, he was chosen an Assistant Justice of 
the Supreme Judicial Court, then consisting of three judges 
of whirh'his former associate in Congress, the Hon. Samuel 
Eddy, was chief. 

In June, 1835, on the retirement of Mr. Eddy, he was chosen 
to succeed him; and continued to be appointed to the place of 
Chief Justice, by annual elections, during the existence of the 
government under the old Charter, viz., to May, 1843. When 
the government was organized under the new Constitution, he 
was again elected to the same responsible station, and continued 
in the discharge of its duties until the day of his death. 

In less than three years after completing his collegiate course, 
he entered into the service of the State ; and, with the excep- 
tion of one period, of four years, was employed, the remainder 
of his life, in one or other of the departments of her government. 
I need not dwell on the ability and integrity with which he 
discharged the various duties which thus devolved upon him, 
nor on the unwavering confidence which, in every situation was 
reposed in him by the public. It is interesting to observe, that 
his speech in Congress, in 1822, on the apportionment of rep- 
resentation, a question of much interest to this State, is m.arked 
by that broad comprehensiveness which is so prominent a fea- 
ture in his subsequent productions. 



8 

But his services in the legislative halls of the State and na- 
tion, though highly creditahle to him, appear unimportant, 
when compared with those, which for fourteen successive 
years, he rendered on the bench. 

The duties of a judge are, perhaps, the most important and 
delicate of any which are required to be performed in the oper- 
ations of government. They demand the highest quali- 
fications, intellectual and moral, aided by that practical wisdom 
which is the result of profound study, close observation, and 
mature reflection. 

When the courts fail to perform their duties, the very founda- 
tion of society is destroyed. The bad are no longer restrained. 
The government no longer affords that protection, which is the 
condition upon which the right of self-protection has been sur- 
rendered to it by the individuals of the compact ; who, in such 
case, of necessity, reassume that right. Much of the violence 
in our frontier settlements, arises from the difficulties in ob- 
taining redress for wrong, through the judicial tribunals ; and, 
even in the older states, we have seen juries sustained by pub- 
lic opinion, in refusing to convict those guilty of the highest 
crimes ; because, it was supposed, the laws provided no ade- 
quate redress for the injury which was the provocation to the 
offence ; thus showing the prevalence of the sentiment, that 
when the laws do not make such provision, the injured party 
may resort to violence and take vengeance into his own hands. 
These are terrible results of the absence of law, or of a lax 
and inefhcient administration of its provisions, from which we 
may learn how highly we should appreciate the protection we 
derive from good government, but more especially do they in- 
dicate the necessity of competent and well organized tribunals 
of justice. Destroy the courts, and society is, of necessity, 
dissolved into its original, uncombined elements, and strength 
and artifice have lawless sway. The case may be yet worse if 
the laws are badly administered ; for this may give fraudful ar- 
tifice a greater advantage over unsuspecting, uncalculating hon- 
esty, than it would derive from the total absence of laAv. 

One step farther in this downward progression — let the courts 



be corrupt — and we reach that most deplorable condition of so- 
ciety, in which the laws become but a weapon, and a most 
fearful weapon, in the hands of the wicked, for the purposes 
of oppression and destruction. 

The judiciary then is the strong tie of society ; and in what- 
ever aspect we view this essential element of government, its 
importance becomes more and more apparent. The judge 
must repress wrong, and protect every citizen by administer- 
ing the laws which the legislature constitutionally enact for 
that purpose. He must also protect the citizen from any leg- 
islative infringement of the rights reserved or guaranteed *to him 
in the fundamental law, which is the basis of the compact ; so 
that, under our form of government, it may become the duty 
of a judge to interpose his authority between one citizen and 
all the rest of the community. It is not easy to conceive of a 
position requiring more firmness and independence of charac- 
ter. 

The action of a judge must also often be based on abstruse 
principles, known or fully apprehended only by the learned. 
Both these causes have a tendency to place him farther than 
any other officer, from the control of the people. 

They perceive the impolicy of holding to strict account, one 
whom they wish to act independently, and the absurdity of at- 
tempting to judge of principles, which they do not fully com- 
prehend. They refrain from measurmg by their own, the 
judgments of one whom they have selected for the very reason 
that he is best able to judge of the questions presented for his 
official decision. This requires implicit faith in the ability and 
integrity of those who are invested with judicial authority. 

The great importance of an independent judiciary has long 
been conceded, and is, indeed. Very obvious. How it is best 
and most certainly obtained, is a difficult problem. It has gen- 
erally been deemed necessary to provide large pecuniary com- 
pensation, and to make the incumbent independent of the ap- 
pointing power by being subject to removal from his office only 
by impeachment for official misdemeanor. This, though in 
the main working well, is not free from serious objections. 
The usefulness of a judge may be very much impaired by the 
2 



10 

loss ol' pubhc confidence in his ability, or even in his integrity, 
when he could not be successfully impeached. He may be- 
come superannuated at an age when a general rule excluding 
him, might, in other cases, deprive the state of the services 
of her most able jurists. The mere uncalculating conscious- 
ness of such security from the consequences of public disap- 
probation, may remove a wholesome check upon individual 
prepossession and prejudices and I may add, against those 
sallies and caprices of judgment, which in some men, otherwise 
unexceptionable, are engendered and encouraged by a sense of 
freedom from the usual restraints on mental activity, by being, 
as it were removed from the jurisdiction of other minds. 
The person thus situated is liable, to some extent, to con- 
tract mental habits similar to those of the isolated thinker, un- 
restrained and uncorrected by collision and comparison with 
the thoughts of those around him. This is the extreme of in- 
dependence, when it becomes an evil. 

The system in this State is peculiar; and though, thus far, 
highly successful, cannot yet be considered as fully tested by 
experience, Whether we have permanently secured, in its full 
extent, the indispensible requisite of independence in our 
courts, and at the same time guarded against the evils of that 
system which has generally been thought essential to this ob- 
ject, is still a problem, and one of no common interest to us, 
and to all interested in government. It is wisely provided in 
our Constitution, that the appointment of judges need not be 
made a subject of discussion in the lisgislature, (which is the 
appointing power,) except to fill a vacancy occasioned by death 
or resignation ; thus, in effect, requiring some cause to be al- 
ledged as a reason for any such discussion. This of itself, as 
compared with appointments at stated periods, has practically 
no little influence in making the office permanent : and so long 
as our citizens are impressed with the importance of select- 
ing suitable men to fill the bench, and of m.aking the office 
secure to the incumbent while he discharges its duties with 
ability and fidelity, our system will undoubtedly do well. 

Under any system, the first requisite to an independent court 
is, the selection of men of independent minds to constitute it. 



11 

And this was a prominent characteristic of our late Chief Justice. 
The constant occupation of his mind, in the investigation of 
abstract truth, naturally led to habits of disinterested mental 
action ; and no one can peruse his works without being struck 
with the intellectual intrepidity, swayed by no authority but 
reason, and restrained only by conscience, which is mani- 
fested in his every thought. With this first requisite he united, 
in an uncommon degree, other high qualifications for the station. 

By some he has been thought deficient in juridical learning ; 
but the information I have received from those better able to 
judge, and better informed than myself on this point, leads me 
to believe that this deficiency, if such it may be called, was 
only in the minute knowledge of adjudged causes. On the 
great mass of these, as mere authority, he seems to have set no 
great value. They are undoubtedly often a very convenient 
means of settling a new case, by the application of an old one 
more or less like it, by a process of stretching and shortening, 
making the old one do, and thus saving the intellectual labour 
required to investigate and apply original principles to each 
particular cause. 

Judge Durfee was not willing to risk the rights of parties on 
such uncertain ground ; but he diligently examined the opin- 
ions of the great expounders of legal science, and attentively 
scanned the reasoning by which their opinions were sustained. 

As in philosophy, it was the habit of his mind to penetrate 
to the ultimate, to ascend to the cause of causes ; so in judicial 
investigations, he sought to go back to the law of laws, and to 
draw from the pure original fountains of abstract justice the 
general principles which should be applied to the particular 
case in question. 

For this process ho was eminently qualified by the compre- 
hensiveness of his views, and his peculiar powers of combiua- 
tion, of rigid analysis, and rational deduction. 

Thus strongly armed by the reasoning faculties, .for the con- 
quest of truth, he was hardly less strongly fortified against er- 
rors by the intuitive perceptions and moral attributes. His 
pm-e and elevated principles, his nice sense of right ; in 
short, his enlightened consciousness, would do much to correct 



1^ 

those errors in the processes of reasoning, to which the ablesfe 
logicians are liable, and would still more certainly .prevent any 
practically injurious application of the erroneous results. The. 
faculty which thus perceives without reasoning to conclusions,i& 
the sentinel of truth, guarding the mind against the wily ap- 
proaches of error. It is the attribute on which the great mass 
of mankind rely, and without which, a judge, whatever may 
be his intellectual endowments and legal attainments, will fail; 
to command the highest confidence of the community. With- 
out the nice moral sense — the pure consciousness which give 
sensibility to this faculty, enabling it to discover truth and de- 
tect error in advance of the logical power, and to sit in judg- 
ment on its processes, they will always apprehend, that mere 
acuteness of intellect and juridical learning will sometimes en- 
able a judge to make his way farther in error, while they also 
give him the means of defending his position with plausible 
and ingenious reasons, and of fortifying it with learned au- 
thority. 

Let it not then be overlooked, that with talent and learning,, 
a judge should possess independence of character — a mind 
trained to habits of disinterested thought — comprehensive 
views — elevated morality — pure and enlightened conscientious- 
ness, and a high controling sense of duty. 

All these qualifications were concentrated in the mind and 
character of Judge Durfee — and who would have wished such 
a mind to look for light to the recorded decisions of inferior 
pien ; decisions often hastily made, imperfectly reported, and 
without such statement of the reasons for the opinions given 
as would admit the application of the rational test. The plan 
he pursued was dictated by a just sense of the responsibilities, 
of his office, and shows, that even with the inactive disposi-, 
tion ascribed to him, he spared himself no labor which duty 
required. 

In connexion with the independence of the judiciary, there 
IS another part of our system well worthy of consideration — 
and which appears, m a great measure, to neutralize all the 
evil which might arise from the dependence of our judges on. 
the appointing power. 



I allude to the small amount, olcomjieiiisatioii. which will al- 
ways make the occupation of the bench, by one qualified for 
it, rather a matter of favor liO the community, than of pecuni-. 
ary advantage to the occupant. 

Hie must take the place for other and higher considerations,, 
from patriotic motives and a controling sense of duty. And it is 
such men who act from such motives, who are especially want- 
ed for this office. AVhile then in the s.election of a judge the 
people tender him the highest and most unequivocal proof of 
their confidence, and of their high estimate of his talents, wis-, 
dom, and virtue, they have, in the sajcrifice to duty, which is 
involved in its acceptance, a guarantee that their estimate is 
correct, and their confidence well founded. 

It is true such character on the bench is invaluable. Better 
for us to pay any possible pri.ce than not have it ; and if paying 
such price would ensure an object of such immense iniportance,. 
we ought not to hesitate. But all experience teaches, that the 
hope of obtaining high qualifications, and especially high moral 
requisites, by the payment of large salaries, is illusive. 

When the pecuniary compensation is an object to mercenary 
office seekers, the choice must, almost of necessity, be made 
from among them. They will crowd themselves upon the at- 
tention of the public to the exclusion of modest merit, which; 
is ambitious only to be useful.. 

We all know the mortifying fact, that offices of profit are toQ 
often filled, more with reference to claims for partizan seryicCj 
or to apprehension of party injury, than to the fitness of the 
applicants ; and we can hardly hope, that even the sanctity of 
th,e judicial ermine would protect it from the desecrating touch, 
of the irreverent base and selfish, if they saw any hope of 
profiting largely by its pollution. Low salary then, seems 
to fee a necessary accompaniment of that part of our plan which 
makes the tenure of this office uncertain. 

It perfects the system — introducing into it those checks and 
balances which are essential to its harmonious movement ; 
and, in fact, makes our courts as conipletely mdependent as 
any mode yet devised. 

It also brings with it the advantage of obliging the people to 



14 

turn their aliention to the subject; whenever from death, resign 
nation, or other cause, a place on the bench is vacant. 

They must then look for a person to fill it ; and, in the very 
difficulty thus created, they will learn properly to appreciate 
the rare endowments for which they are obliged to seek* and 
which, when thus obtained, they will not be prone to part with 
for slight cause. 

But it may be urged that whcu the proper qualifications are 
found, the inadequate compensation will be an obstacle to ob- 
taining them. We reply, that then they are not yet found. 

The man who, to serve his fellow citizens in this most im- 
portant and most honorable of all official stations, would not 
forego the pursuit of wealth, and consent to live on an income 
vhich though moderate, is still much above the average allot- 
ment, does not possess the pure and disinterested patriotism — 
the chastened but exalted ambition, the noble purpose of soul, 
the self sacrificing and fervid devotion to duty which are the 
requisites of the station. He is not the man marked by Heaven, 
morally he is no.t higher than all the rest from his shoulders 
and upwards. 

When the proper person is selected, there is little reason to 
f^.ar that he will decline the proffered honor, for he is appointed 
in virtue of that high authority from which he has derived the 
talents which designate him for the office, — talents, which he 
will feel bounH to use in obedience to the commands of Him 
Vho gave them. 

In our limited territory, men of even less elevated views of 
the duties which devolve on talent, might, in yielding their 
consent to the solicitations of the public, feel that they were but 
performing an act of kindness to their friends and neighbors, 
and thus the feelings of friendship and local interests and at- 
tachments would here reinforce the m^re enlarged sentiments 
of patriotism and philanthropy. On this point we may derive 
encouragement from the past. It is true that under our present 
system we have had a very limited experience. Since its adop- 
tion this is the first vacancy which has occurred on the bench. 

But when we consider the peculiar mental character of the 
la,te incumbent, the absorbing nature of those philosophical 



investigations which habitually occupied his mind — the rapt ifr- 
ous delight he evidently derived from the contemplation of" 
truth in her most etherial realms, and see him cheerfully de- 
scending from this starry height — withdrawing his mind from 
the sublimest problems of spiritual science to settle the petty 
questions which arise in the ignoble strife and competition of 
ordinary human affairs, — and that in thus giving thought, he 
gave that which to him was beyond all price, w^e may well doubt 
whether the duties of the office will ever require greater indi- 
vidual sacrifices to public interest than have already been made. 

Though these principles are most especially applicable to 
those offices which require the highest moral requisites, they 
apply with more or less force to all. 

That very moderate official compensation lias alwa^'s been a 
distinguishing feature in the system of this State, nlay have 
arisen, in part, from the limited resources of small territory ; 
but it seems most probable that it sprung spontaneously from 
the truly democratic ideas which our ancestors incorporated in 
the very inception of our government. 

They deemed the souls of all men equally free ; and from 
this root springs all other practicable equality. Hence it has here 
ever been the custom to allot to our Senators, to the Governor 
of the State whb presides at their deliberations, and to the of- 
ficer who sweeps their legislative hall, the same moderate per 
diem recompense. 

This is practically illustrating the great principles of repub- 
licanism — -practically teaching the momentous doctrine, that 
the offices are for the benefit of the community, and not es- 
pecially for that of the incumbents. 

It is directly opposed to the doctrine, termed democratic, 
which has obtained in many of our sister states, that the sala- 
ries should be large, that the poor may be able to take office. 
This doctrine presupposes that the officers of government must, 
In virtue of their station, live in more expensive style than 
their neighbors. And this, we are gravely told, is to make the 
office respectable ; as if in this Republican and Christian land 
respectability were measured by dollars and cents, or attached 
to fine linen and sumptuous fare. 



u 

Among the secondary principles wiiich'ckistoi' ai'ouild the lead- 
ing idea of our State, I conceive there is none so important as the 
one we are considering, — none fraught with such promise of 
great resuUs to the nation and the world. If it Avere applied 
to the officers of the general government, from the President 
down, the power which official patronage confers would no 
longer threaten our institutions. The Praetorian band of mer- 
cenary office seekers would be dispersed, and make room for 
tdlent actuated by patriotism. We should practically enforce 
the great truth just mentioned, that the offices are for the ben- 
-efit of the community ; and if the same principle could be 
applied to our diplomatic corps, we should extend the moral 
influence of these views beyond ourselves. Our foreign min- 
isters, living in the style demanded by this system, would illus- 
trate republican equality and simplicity, instead of servilely 
pandering to a foreign state pageantry, which however impos- 
ing and brilliant, is sustained at the expense of privation and 
suffering to the great mass of tlic governed. 

This single principle, that official service is to be rendered 
from patriotic and philanthropic motives, has in it the power, 
and if faithfully maintained, will no doubt eventually shake the 
thrones of civil, ds the gradual extension of our leading idea 
has already shaken those of spiritual despotism. If any one is 
disposed to smile at the idea of our little State aspiring to the 
proud, distinction of accomplishing such great results, let him 
tecur to the time, when on its soil, and near this very spot, a 
solitary persecuted man, cast out by his fellow men, and ex- 
posed to privation and danger, still nurtured in his single soul 
the great idea of a state where there should be spiritual free- 
dom. Let him contemplate the progress of this idea as it has 
become actualized in our State — has been incorporated into our 
national government, and has more or less influenced every civ- 
ilized nation on the globe — relaxing bigotry — restraining perse- 
cution — restoring conscience to its rightful supremacy, and 
then let him judge whether it be idle in us to nurture, in the 
bosom of our little State, a principle promising such momen- 
tous consequences ; and whether we may not trust for their 
accomplishment to that energy which is inherent in all truth, 



ir 

and especially in trnth consecrated by the sacrifice of selfishness 
on the altar of duty. 

These views also preclude the fallacy that good government 
can be obtained merely by the f ayment of sufficient money ; 
a fallacy which leads many to suppose they are fulfilling their 
whole public duty when they contribute liberally to the pecun- 
iary expenses of the social organization, and that they are 
thereby absolved from the more indispensible contributions of 
that personal thought and attention, without wliich the lib- 
eral use of money will, almost of necessity, produce evil in- 
stead of good results. 

Such erroneous notions wither patriotism, and extinguish 
enthusiasm for country. 

But the association of high compensation with oliicial duty 
has yet a farther reach, and causes many to suppose that in 
withdrawing themselves from the cares of government, and 
yielding their claims to a share of the incidental emoluments, 
they practice a commendable generosity and self-denial. The 
effect of this is to throw the affairs of government into the 
hands of the mercenary, bringing official station into disrepute, 
and making a disregard of public duties a conventional virtue. 

That the salaries in this State are now practically at the 
tight point, or that if so, circumstances may not require futiu'e 
changes, I do not presume to assert ; but I am convinced that 
the principle is correct, and that we shall find no plan which 
insures so much respectability to office, or that will draw so 
much talent and moral character into the service of the State 
as the one we have adopted, which brings into action higher 
motives than money can command. 

The requisition which this system makes upon talent and 
virtue, is in harmony with that precept of our religion, which 
enjoins, that those who have freely received should freely give, 
and may be regarded as a departure from the prevailing social 
organization, in which selfishness is almost exclusively relied 
upon as the stimulus to the performance of all duties. It is, so 
far, an approach to that higher and better system, in which the 
nobler sentiments of justice, benevolence and love shall become 
the ruling principles of action. 
3 



IS 

There is unity in all truth ; and do we not find in the har- 
inony of this principle of low salaries and its consequences, 
^ith the high truths of social science and revealed religion, as- 
surance that it is itsfelf a verity, and a verity which we should 
fondly cherish and vigilantly protect from the assaults of thatt 
fcommon foe to all principle and virtue, temporary cfxpediency. 
Though, at Several times, Judge Durfee wished to retire, hfe 
was prevailed upon to continue in office, by those who saw th6 
difficulty of flnother selection. He made the sacrifice cheer- 
fully, for his love for his native State was ardent and constant. 
It was not, however, that limited sentiment which is circum- 
scribed by geographical lines, and which, though sufficiently 
removed from selfishness to be esteemed as a high virtue, is yet 
harrow, compared with that enlarged benevolence which knows 
no local boundaries. In Judge Durfee, patriotism was but a 
concentrated modification of the intehse interest he felt in the 
whole humanity. 

In our little State he sa^V much of future hope to the whole 
i-ace, and with her leading ideas of liberty for his lever, he made 
it the stand point from which he might, with whatever power 
was in him, move the world. Perhaps, in the glowing fervor 
of his attachment, he invested it with somfe of those ideal per- 
fections which warmed his vivid fancy, and excited enthusiasm 
in his ardent mind. But under the influence of that Cahn spirit, 
which is the characteristic of a, mind trained to high and en- 
nobling conceptions, he stiXv our State trying the experiment of 
self-government under new circumstances, with the new ele- 
ment of soul-liberty incorporated in its whole system, and mod- 
ifying all its institutions. From an element so obviously con- 
genial to civil liberty he argued even more than from the sig- 
nal success of the experinient for two centuries. He saw in 
this first realization of a great idea, " a liberty which implied 
"an emancipation of reason from the thraldom of arbitrary 
" authority, and the full freedom of enquiry in all matters of 
" speculative faith." 

He saw that in asserting tliat " Christ was King in his own 
Kingdom," our ancestors had virtually denied the legitimacy 
of all ptptftnlers to the spiritual throne, and had thus proclaim- 



10 

ed the downfall of religtou« despotism, and wjtii it the niosi 
galling and hopeless form of civil thraldon^t and oppression. He 
traced the great central idea of our State, fjFom its first feeble 
manifestations in the individual opposition of conscientious 
martyrs to the usurpers of spirituial authority, through the bold 
Waldenses, the heroic spirits of the reformation, and the dcr 
voted pilgrims of New-Engl^md, until it became here the ac- 
knowledged principle of a government ; and began, in a sys- 
tematise Bianner, to work ouf those practical results to which 
all true thought, however abs;traGtj continu9,lly tends as its rar 
mote but certain effect. 

Ill view of the great importance of tl^is principle, and the 
fidelity and vigilance with which it was guarded by our aur 
cesstors, it seemed to him a sacred trust which Heaven had coi,!- 
fided to their car© for the benefit of ^11 fujure ages ; aud he de^ 
lighted, in imagination, to trace its progressive influence o}\ the 
happiness of the whole human race. 

He saw too, that witji the Rhode-Island notions of govern.- 
ment engrafted on the principle of religious liberty, our aii^cesr 
tors had successfully guided the State between ,the two ex- 
tremes of licentiousness and arbitrary authority, keeping on 
that safe ground of liberty regulated by rational la^ws, which i$ 
equally removed from anarchy on the one hand, ^nd from ty- 
ranny or unnecessary lestraint on tiie other. And when, in hi§ 
own time, he saw the State in danger of being driven from this 
middle ground by the influence of other notions of libertyj 
which having obtained in our sister states, had gradually gained 
a foothold in this, he felt that a crisis had arrived, the event of 
which might very much retard the progres;, of rational liberty. 
The germ which had been so carefully protected and nurtured 
into vigorous growth was about to be destroyed. He was 
aroused by the emergency, and leaving his quiet home repair- 
ed to the scene of agitation, and put forth all his energies to 
support the institutions of the State, and save it from anarchy 
and civil war. 

This is not the proper time^ or place, to question or defend 
his views on this subject, and I mention the circumstance only 
•da indicatin:-^ the intense interest he felt in all that concerned 



20 

ihe welfare of the State ; but more especially in the perpetuity 
of those leading ideas of her government, which he deemed so 
important to the progress of the world. This attachment to 
the State, and hope in her principles, are presented iii his His- 
torical Discourse, in language which must make every Rhode- 
Island bosom glow with patriotic pride. The reader will there 
find that while our State has, on all occasions, been the pioneer 
of freedom, she has also been foremost in those commercial 
and mechanical pursuits which have contributed so much to 
individual comfort and national prosperity. 

She first asserted perfect religious freedom. 

In the revolution she passed the first legislative act, and 
struck the first blow for civil liberty. 

She was the first to brave royalty in arms, and the first to 
cope with that navy whose prowess had made it the terror of 
the world : and Vviien the great struggle for national existence 
was successfully terminated, she furnished in her past history 
the model of that constitution which was to cement the union 
and crown the triumph. 

While agriculture was here pursued on a magnificent scale, 
Newport was early pre-eminent in commerce, and at a later 
period Providence led the way in manufacturing enterprizes. 

''In what then," to use the language of the discourse al- 
luded to, '■ in what then, has Rhode-Island fallen short of the 
"high promise given by her fundamental idea? Is she not 
'' thus far, first among the foremost in the great cause of Liberty 
"and Lav/ ?" 

Let Rhode-Island men ponder on the glorious past, which 
they will find delineated in this notable discourse, till from the 
fervid patrotism which inspired its author, and dictated its elo- 
quent pages, they derive a kindred ardor, and firmly resolve; 
by being true to themselves, and to the great principles of the 
State, to retain the proud pre-eminence, which, by a firm 
and steadfast adherence to these principles, has already been 
achieved. 

In this wo may profit by other precepts and suggestions of 
the same work. We arQ there taught that we have a sure ground; 
of hope in ourselves and that we may rely on the sound 



21 

maxims and practical good sense, which are the basis of the 
institutions, by which we have been self governed for two cen- 
turies, enjoying at once more perfect liberty, and more perfect 
security than were ever before attained by any social organiza- 
tion. 

And we are there warned not to be led away from our own 
principles, by following the example of other states, in their 
wild pursuit of a social organization, in which there shall be 
liberty without restraint ; the pursuit of an organization which 
shall be no organization. But let me repeat this lesson of prac- 
tical wisdom, in his own words. He says : " It has been the 
" fortune of Rhode-Island Irom her infancy to the present hour 
"to balance herself between liberty and law, to wage war, as 
" occasion might require, with this or that class of ideas, and 
" keep them within their appropriate bounds. And before cer- 
" tain other states, some of them not fairly out of their era-;- 
"dies, undertake to give her lessons of duty in relation tq 
" such ideas, let me tell them that they must have something 
" of Rhode-Island's experience, and have, like her, been self- 
'' governed for centuries." Shall such counsel be lost upon 
us ? Shall we, recreant to our own honor, and to the high 
trust which has thus descended to us, desert the principles 
which have thus far made our career so glorious and so useful? 
Or shall we not rather resolve to cling to them, and still press- 
ing forward, continue the worthy pattern of other states in- 
stead of their servile imitator. Our longer experience in self- 
government, and our limited territory, both favor our being the 
model state, 

Let this be our ambition, and while looking with steadfast 

hope on the future, let us not be unmindful of the teachings, 

or the glory of the past. From these we may derive wisdom 

to direct, and enthusiasm to give energy and noble purpose to 
our efforts. 

For the means of taking a retrospective view of our past 
history, and the principles it inculcates, we are much indebted 
to the efforts of many of the members of this society ; but no 
pne has perhaps done so much to give our history and princi- 
ples a popular and attractive form as Judge Durfee has accom- 
plished in his Whatcheer, and in his Historical Discourse. 



22 

One of his principal objects in writing the former of these 
works, as stated by himself, was to invest our history, and the 
principles and spirit of Roger Williams, with the interest 
which poetry can throw around its subject, and through its po-r 
tent influences, imprint them on the memory, and make them 
familiar to the popular mind. The same object is manifested 
in his prose writings, and especially in the discourse just men-, 
tioned. 

The importance he attached to the preservation of these 
principles, and the institutions which had grown up under 
them, and the glowing fervour with which they inspired his 
3^rdent mind, are strikingly and eloquently pourtrayed, in his 
official charge to the grand jury in March, 1842. 

It has been remarked by intelligent observers in other states, 
that Rhode -Island is culpably regardless of her fame ; and 
there is so much of dignity, and of magnanimity to admire, in 
jthe willingness to perform great actions without levying appro- 
bation, or being solicitous for the renown which should follow 
ithem, that I can hardly find it in my heart to wish it otherwise. 
But still a proper regard to the influence of those actions, as 
well as justice to those by whom they were performed, may 
prescribe the duty of making them known. This is strongly 
urged in the Discourse alluded to. 

Speaking of the " Rhode-Island idea of government," he 
says, " I now ask you, fellow-citizens, whether there be not that 
" in its history which is well worthy of our admiration ; and 
'^ that in it which is still big with destinies glorious and hon-^ 
" orable ? Shall the records which give this history, still lie un- 
'' known and neglected in the cabinet of this Society for the 
" want of funds for their publication ? Will you leave one re^ 
" spected citizen to stand alone in generous contribution to 
'' this great cause ? I ask ye, men and women of Rhode-Island ! 
" for all may share in the noble eff'ort to rescue the history of 
" an honored ancestry from oblivion. I ask ye, will you allow 
" the world longer to remain in ignorance of their names, their 
" virtues, their deeds, their labours, and their sufferings in the 
" great cause of regulated liberty ? Aye, what is tenfold worse, 
'•' will you sufl"cr your children to imbibe their knowledge of 



i2g 

'' their forefathers from the Ubelous accounts of them given by 
*' the Hiibbards, the Mortons, the Mathers, and their copyists ? 
" Will yoil allow their minds, in the germ of existence, to be- 
*' come contaminated with such exaggerations, and perversion 
" of truth, and inspired with contempt for their progenitors, 
"and for that State to which their forefathers' just conceptions 
'^ of goi'^ernment gave birth ? Citizens ! — be ye native or adopt- 
'' ed, I invite ye to come out from all minor associations for the 
'' coercive development of minor ideas, and adopt the one great 
" idea of your State, which gives centre to them all ; and, by 
'' hastening it onward to its natural developments, you shall 
" realize your fondest hopes. Let us form ourselves into one 
" great association for the accomplishment of this end. Let 
" the grand plan be, at once struck out by a legislative enact- 
" ment, making immediate, and providing for future appropria- 
*' tions ; let the present generation begin this work, and let 
" succeeding ones, through all time, go on to fill up and perfect 
" it. Let us begin, and let our posterity proceed to construct 
" a monumental history that shall, on every hill, and in every 
" vale, consecrated by tradition to some memorable event, or to 
" the memory of the worthy dead, reveal to our own eyes, to 
*' the eyes of our children, and to the admiration of the stran- 
" ger, something of Rhode-Island's glorious past. Let us forth- 
" with begin, and let posterity go on to publish a documentary 
" history of the State ; a history, that needs but to be revealed^ 
" and truly known, in order to be honored and respected by 
" every human being capable of appreciating heroic worth. 
" Let a history be provided for your schools, that shall teach 
" childhood to love our institutions, and reverence the memory 
" of its ancestry ; and let myth and legend conspire with his- 
" tory truly to illustrate the character and genms of ages gone 
" by, and make Rhode-Island all one classic ground. Let a 
" literary and scientific periodical be established, that shall 
" breathe the true Rhode-Island, spirit defend her institutions j 
" her character, the memory of her honored dead from defama- 
" tion, be it of the past or present time ; and thus invite and 
" concentrate the eftorts of Rhode-Island talent and genius, 
" wherever they may be found. Let us encourage and patronis** 



" our literary institutions of all kinds, from the common school 
'' to the college — they are all equally necessary to make the 
" Rhode-Island mind what it must be, before it can fulfill its 
" higli destinies. Let this, or other more hopeful plan, be 
" forthwith projected by legislative enactment ; and be held up 
" to the public mind for present and future execution, and 
" we shall realize by anticipation, even in the present age, 
" many of the effects of its final accomplishment. It will fix 
" in the common mind of the state, an idea of its own per- 
" petuity, and incite it to one continuous effort to realize its 
" loftiest hopes." 

"If Rhode-Island can not live over great space, she can live 
'' over much time — past, present, and to come — and it is the 
" peculiar duty of statesmen to keep this idea of her perpetuity 
" constantly in the mind of all." 

This is a strong appeal, fervidly urging us to perform an im- 
portant duty. But I apprehend the deep interest in the preser- 
vation of our past history which dictated it, may have led its 
'author to overlook, for the moment, an object no less dear to 
hirri, and to recommend what might, and very probably would 
lead to encroachment on onr State principles. I allude to his 
appeal for aid from the legislature. 

As a State, we have generally been careful that legislative 
action should not interfere with those matters which are more 
properly the subjects of individual duty. A liberal construc- 
tion of our leading principle of soul liberty, covers this ground. 
We would give to conscience the freest possible scope. Let us 
not then narrow the limits for the performance of those actions 
which a conscientious conviction of duty demands. Let us not 
encroach on that sphere in which patriotism and philanthropy 
are nurtured, and in which they find their appropriate field for 
vigorous and invigorating activity. 

When a people are accustomed to look to the government 
for the accomplishment of every desirable public object, the 
glowing sentiments which should animate them are lost in a 
soulless abstraction ; public spirit degenerates to a mere state 
pride, and individual devotion to country, having no object for 



2f, 

its practical application, or development, becomes, in popular es- 
timation, but a romantic absurdity. 

These views are confirmed by analogies drawn from the 
system which Divine wisdom has established. If the supreme 
governor of the world left no good to be performed, no difficul- 
ties to be surmounted by individual effort, how would virtue be 
developed, or find occasions for its exercise ? 

It may be said, that when union is required, the government 
is already organized, and ready for efficient action ; but there is 
a wide difference in favor of the moral effects of a combination, 
in which every individual unites from a conscientious convic- 
tion that it is his duty to aid in the accomplishment of the con- 
templated object, and that in which the many find themselves 
accidentally and incidentally acting without thought, interest, 
or volition ; or, perhaps, with a feeling that they act only by 
compulsion, against their judgment or their will. 

This objection, that state interference prevents the develop- 
ment, or impairs the influence of patriotic sentiment, applies 
even to objects universally) admitted to be beneficial, but which 
could be as well accomplished by private action. If, however, 
it be a fact, (the hypothesis even seems a libel) — if it be a fact 
that there is not enough of public spirit among us to accomplish 
the object alluded to in the passage I have quoted, I am not 
prepared to say, it would not become the duty of the State to 
preserve that past history which is our common inheritance, 
and which it is our duty to transmit to succeeding generations. 
But in thus assuming the guardianship of this portion of ex- 
perimental knowledge, let it be careful not to encroach more 
directly on our principles by becoming the propagators of spec- 
ulative doctrines, — political, philosophical, or religious. They 
are nearly related to each other. The political creed is engen- 
dered by speculative philosophy, which in its turn is nearly al- 
lied to theology. 

Will it be said that it is the duty of a free state to sustain 
and propagate those views which insure its own perpetuity 
and its own stability ? This is the plea of despotism, and the 
very foundation of the Church and State doctrine. A free 
government, must conform to the progress of speculative ideas 
4 



26 

as they become sufiiciently firm for its foundation. Despotism,' 
which does not thus conform, is Hable to violent convulsions, 
and is stable only when there is no such progress. Similar 
convulsions also attend premature efforts to change a govern- 
ment in advance of this progress of speculative ideas, or before 
they have been fully developed in the popular mind. 

If any legislators suppose the power of government may be 
used to secure its own permanency by directing this progress, 
let them first essay the more easy task, and try if by legisla- 
tive enactment they can roll back Niagara's flood, or arrest the 
thunderbolt ; and in the reflection, that the latter has been ac- 
complished by science, they may learn that however important 
and beneficial in its appropriate sphere, the action of govern- 
ment is temporary and impotent, compared with that mighty 
current of ideas which has its sources in the abstract investi- 
gations of the philosopher, and the deep revolvingS of the met- 
aphysician. 

In his Historical Discourse, Judge Durfee selected as appro- 
priate to the occasion, a purely Rhode-Island theme. It was 
also one congenial to his feelings, and he here appears emphat- 
ically a Rhode-Island man. But it is not as her statesman, 
her Judge, her patriotic historian and enthusiastic eulogist, 
that we would choose to portray the great features of his mind, 
and we now come to the consideration of those works by which 
he extended himself beyond all local boundaries, and became 
a citizen of the world ; or, in view of the almost boundless 
range of his thoughts, I might rather say of the Universe, and. 
of that Universe which mind alone pervades. 

His first appearance as an author was in the poem entitled 
Whatcheer,* taking for his subject the settlement of this State 
by Roger Williams. It is one of the few American poems 
which have been favorably noticed in the foreign reviews, and 
been republished in Europe. In the somewhat mechanical 
part of versification, it is deficient. Its rhythm is not always 
smooth ; but tested by the true criterion of poetry, the power 
of bringing real or imaginary scenes vividly to the mental per- 

•Since writing the above I have learned that a poem of his,entitled "the Vision of 
Petrarch," recited before the United Brothers' Society of Brown University in 
1814, was published at that time. 



27 

ception, and the consequent powev of producing lively and iiir 
tense emotion, it will be found to possess poetic merits of a 
very high order. 

The subject well deserved to be immortalized in song ; for 
history records few events fraught with more important results, 
than the successful establishment of a state based on religious 
freedom ; and few acts more truly heroic, than that of its 
founder encountering, in the depth of winter, the perils and 
hardships of a journey through the pathless wilderness, and 
trusting to the favor of savage tribes already irritated by the 
encroachments of the whites, rather than do violence to his 
conscience by renouncing his principles, or even refraining 
from propagating them. The adventures of his journey, and 
of his intercourse with the Indian tribes, are vividly depicted 
and the reader will often find his interest wrought to a painful 
intensity. But the sentiment most powerfully excited by the 
whole work, is that of admiration for the unconquerable spirit 
with which the hero of the poem adheres, in every adversity, 
to the noble and lofty purpose, to which through life, he devo- 
ed all his energies. This appears to have been the author's 
principal object, and this, it seems to us, is most hq,ppily accom- 
plished. 

The next publication from his pen, was an Oration before 
the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Brown University, delivered at 
the Commencement anniversary in IS43. 

The leading idea of this work is, that the course of events 
in this world is mainly determined by its deep thinkers, acting 
through the medium of scientific invention and discovery. 
It is presented with much force of argument and happy il- 
lustration, revealing one of the most consoling views which 
philosophy has ever presented to the popular mind. How en- 
couraging to reflect, tliat the errors of legislation, the folly of 
infatuated rulers, the miseries of war, the success of national 
fraud, and the supremacy of violence, are but temporary and 
local counter currents and eddies in the great tide of events, 
which moved by the mighty impulses of thought, is still flow- 
ing resistlessly onward. And how inspiring to the philanthro- 
pist to find that his efforts to advance the happiness of his race 



28 

if directed by mature reflection, can only be very partially, 
and for a brief space, neutralized by the perverse action of 
thoughtless folly, vice, and ignorance. 

His next and most important publication is entitled, " Pan- 
idea, or the Omnipresent Reason considered as the creative and 
sustaining Logos." The title has been thought unfortunate, 
but it probably conveys as correct an idea of the contents of 
the book as any which could be selected. It embodies his philo- 
sophical views, and is evidently the result of long and patient 
study and deep meditPtion. 

It appears indeed, to have been the final product of the float- 
ing thoughts of his meditative life, suddenly precipitated, as 
by some galvanic spark, and clustering in symmetrical order 
around his central idea, which combined all the infinitude of 
particulars into entireties, and in the last analysis merges these 
entireties in the unity of the Reason or Logos. 

This converging of his ideas into a regular system, was pro- 
bably not long anticipated even by himself, and may be regard- 
ed as one of those delightful surprises, which occasionally re- 
ward and cheer the solitary labors of the patient metaphysical 
enquirer, as the Aloe, after its century of constant, but almost 
unobservable growth, suddenly matures the beautiful flower, 
which imparts comeliness and grace to its rugged strength. 
But his thoughts had evidently long tended to the formation 
of the system in which they eventually took order. His poem 
is slightly tinged with its peculiar doctrines, which in a more 
practical form, are very observable in both the other prose 
works to which we have alluded. It dawned in his Com- 
mencement Oration, and its setting rays, reflected in his HisT 
torical Discourse, were the last his luminous mind shed upon 
our path. ^ 

In proceeding to the consideration of this work, allow me to 
dwell a moment on some objections which have been urged 
against it, and some charges to which it has exposed its author. 

In the first place, it is said to be profoundly metaphysical, 
and therefore of no utility. We admit the charge, but we by 
no means concur in the inference. We are aware, that to manv. 



29 

the term metaphysics carries with it repulsive associations with 
all that is dark, intricate, and bewildering in thought. 

There is much diversity in the definition of the term, but it 
is popularly applied to abstract investigations of the nature of 
existence and the causes of change^ but more especially to the 
nature and phenomena of the ultimate efficient cause — mind. 
Why then this popular repulsion? Is there nothing in those 
faculties, by which we are distinguished as rational and intelli-- 
gent beings, to stimulate our curiosity and induce examination? 
Nothing in those general abstract principles, which embrace all 
particular knowledge, to render their possession desirable ? Is 
it nothing, that such inquiries, at least furnish a fair field for 
the healthful and invigorating exercise of the intellectual fac- 
ulties — a retreat for the mind, from the annoyances, intrusions 
and selfish influences of bustling life, to calm and disinterest- 
ed thought, strengthening all its noble faculties and nurturing 
ail its holy aspirations for truthful acquisitions. 

If, as it seems reasonable to suppose, the great object of the 
universe is to furnish a means to discipline and improve the 
spirit, how imperfect the system, without this provision for the 
study of its own nature and its mode of action. But indepen- 
dent of the gratification and improvement of the individual 
student of metaphysics, it reveals us important truths ; many 
of them, as might be expected from spiritual science, nearly al- 
lied to the consolations of religion; and related to its divine 
revelations, as the finite to the infinite mind. To what pur- 
pose are we told that the spirit is immortal, if we are to know 
nothing of its attributes and its susceptibilities to pleasure or 
pain. From the dearth of such inquiry — the total absence of 
a proper infusion of metaphysical thought in the popular 
mind, it has ever, in its notions of a future state, fastened on a 
material Heaven, and a material Hell, as the ultimate of its 
conceptions of happiness and misery. It is this deficiency, 
which causes a religion to be popularly attractive, in propor- 
tion as it addresses itself to the senses, and which makes the 
sensual paradise of the Mahometan, more influential in produc- 
ing consistency of belief and conduct, than the spiritual joy 
which is promised in the Christian's Heaven. 



30 

Wc have already alluded to one very consoling and encour- 
aging result of metaphysical research, as the subject of one of 
Judge Durfee's works, and we may add that his definition of 
a State, so important in its practical application to the political 
rights and duties of governments and of citizens, was a direct 
and immediate consequence of his abstract speculations on the 
doctrine of entireties, of which it is only a particular case.* — 
So that if metaphysics has not that peculiar utility which is in-, 
tended by the objectors, it has still higher claims, and will no 
doubt be pursued while "the heart of him that hath under- 
standing seeketh knowledge." But are such objectors aware 
of its direct and important connections with the immediate af-r 
fairs of life ? Do they consider, that a great portion of all the 
honest persecution which the world has endured, has arisen 
from a metaphysical error as to the relations between belief and 
the will ; and that next to the influences of religion, a compre^ 
hensive knowledge of the eff'ects of vice on the mind would be 
the surest guarantee of virtue. But the argument may be 
brought much closer to the utilitarian. 

Trace all the recent great mechanical improvements and disr 
coveries to their source, and we shall find they emanate from 
the abstract metaphysical thought which Bacon wrought out, 
or collected and embodied from the labors of more remote, and 
even more purely abstract metaphysical thinkers. The meta- 
physician is, in this respect, the central point from which, when 
we advance beyond the instinctive, all action radiates. He is 
the necessary antecedent to the mere philosopher. Bacon 
furnished the key which enabled Newton to unfold the mys- 
teries of the material universe, and he gave direction 
^o I^ocke's inquiries into the spiritual nature. His metaphysical 
researches revealed a method, and gave an impulse to material 
science ; which, in its widening progress, has influenced all the 
efforts of mankinds from the philosopher to the simplest arti- 
ficer and laborer. 

Steamboats, railroads, and magnetic telegraphs are but a por- 
tion of the grand result ; and when the whole ground is seen, 

* This definition has since been made the foundation of a very able^ argument, 
by a very able constitutional lawyer, in a cause before the Supreme Court of the 
United Stu'.cs. 



31 

i apprehend it will appear scarcely less absurd in those who are 
benefited by these improvements, to question the utility of 
metaphysical inquiries, than for a man eating bread to ask the 
use of cultivating grain. Such people would have the im- 
provements without the pre-requisite thought, the grain with- 
out sowing or reaping. They may^ by some chance, find the 
one growing spontaneously, as the other may be discovered by 
accident or unguided search. I conceive it would not be diffi- 
cult to show that the power of England, disproportioned as it 
is to her area, is the result of the influence of her deep abstract 
metaphysical thinkers. Without them her soil and climate 
might have produced strong bodies, but she would have want- 
ed the animating soul which has made her what she is, and 
sustainis her at a point, from which, this wanting, she would 
precipitately fall. 

The advancement of speculative philosophy, and of abstract 
science, must of course be but a progress of ideas. But these, 
in their developments, exert a practical influence on our 
thoughts, feelings, sentiments, habits and actions — in short, on 
the moral, intellectual and physical condition of the world. 
In the department of physical labor, they point the way to me- 
chanical improvements, or penetrating the political strata, rev- 
olutionize governments, or convulse nations when they are too 
strongly opposed by pre-established institutions. What was 
the political tragedy enacted in France near the commencement 
of this century, but a practical manifestation of ideas which 
had advanced far enough to expose the evils of the govern- 
ment, but had not yet reached the construction of a better ? 
At this point they but gave power to the blind instinct of re- 
venge, without imparting the elevated feelings which a farther 
progress will inspire. The masses caught some bright, transi- 
tory glimpses of the true objects of government ; but the old 
notions that the glory of a nation was to be found on the battle 
field, and that the bosoms of the millions should freely bleed to 
aggrandise a successful leader had not yet been eradicated. A 
brave and cliivalric people were subdued — the blaze of enthu- 
siasm was extinguished in anarchy, and the aspirations and 
hopes of philanthropy were crushed beneath the iron heel of 



32 

despotism. But the combined power of Europe has not been 
able for a moment to arrest that progress of ideas, which in 
this terrific struggle, with volcanic force, shook it to the cen^- 
tre. The first convulsive throes of the pent up elements are 
over, and on the new soil which the eruption has thrown up 
from the murky abyss of superstitious ignorance, the verdure, 
the bloom, and more advanced stages of progressive thought, 
give promise that it will yet ripen in the consummation of those 
high hopes and lofty purposes which mere physical force can 
only very feebly accelerate or retard. 

The general principle involved in these views, would in- 
deed seem to be a necessary corollary to the obvious 
truth, that intelligence is the only activity, the only 
efficient cause. Hence thought moves the world, and the 
energy of the changes, and the rapidity of the progress of any 
people, must find their limit in the energy of their thinkers. 
In confirmation of these views, we may remark that, where 
there is least speculative thought, there is also least progress even 
in the practical arts. 

" Panidea" is also charged with being obscure. This, we 
apprehend, is inseparable from the subjects of which it treats. 
Its object is to extend our knowledge over a region as yet very 
imperfectly explored ; a region lying on the outer confines of 
science, where conventional signs of thought are not yet es- 
tablished, and where the persevering and penetrating thinker 
must consequently construct a language as he advances. To 
make this language easily intelligible to others, is obviously a 
work of much difficulty, if indeed this be not wholly impossi- 
ble. As well might we expect the first pioneer in a forest to 
make an open highway as he travels through it, as the first 
explorer of new and remote metaphysical truth, to construct a 
plain and definite language of communication with it. All 
that can be expected of either, is that they will leave such 
traces of their progress that others may more easily follow in 
the same path, which will become plainer and plainer by use. 
But even this inevitable obscurity is not without its beneficial 
results in awakening thought, and causing more thorough in- 
vestigation. That mankind should cluster on one plain, around 
some lofty structure, is no more in conformity with Divine order 



ill the mental than in llie material sphere ofhuman activity; and 
whenever a metaphysical system is built of sniiicient height to 
become an object of universal attraction to philosophers, this 
ambiguity of language, is sure to divide and scatter them over 
the Avhole domain of thought, great portions of which might 
else remain waste and unexplored. 

But another and a more serious charge has been brought 
against this work ; and some, who reiterating the charge of ob- 
scurity, would hardly claim to understand its metaphysical for- 
mulas, or to comprehend their various relations to some intri- 
cate and subtle questions of theology, are bold to assert its 
sceptical tendency. 

On this point I might urge the known sentiments and piety 
of the writer ; but I am aware that great and good men have 
sometimes advocated views, which when carried out to their 
legitimate logical consequences, lead to erroneous and pernicious 
results which they did not perceive, and hence any argument 
drawn from the purity of their lives, though it might exculpate 
them from the suspicion of intentional wrong, would not prove 
that no error was involved in the doctrines they promulgated ; 
which, therefore, must speak for themselves, and be judged 
without reference to the virtues with which they may thus be 
associated. 

To these doctrines we confidently appeal in the present in- 
stance for a complete refutation of this charge. And what are 
these doctrines, as we find them recorded in Panidea ? which, 
as we have before observed, embodies the philosophical creed 
of its author. 

He does not, however, claim to have put forth in it much 
which is absolutely new in idea ; but there is much of novelty 
in the combination, and in the reasoning by which some of the 
ideas are supported, as also in the illustrations by which, with 
rare felicity, he reflects light into the profoundest depths of 
metaphysics. 

It treats of some of the most diflicult and interesting ques- 
tions which have ever attracted the thought, or stimulated the 
curiosity of mankind. The freedom of the will, the origin of 
our knowled^f., thp fnct nnd the inodp of conununifotion he- 



34 

tween the finite and' the infinite mind, the existence or non- 
existence of matter as a substance distinct from spirit, the rela- 
tions of the material to the spiritual, and the mode of God's gov- 
ernment of the universe, are among the subjects comprehended 
in its wide range of investigation. 

In regard to the first of these, though in his " doctrine of 
entireties," and in representing the Omnipresent Reason not 
only as ever present in the human mind, but as control ing to a 
great extent the succession of its ideas, he seems only narrowly 
to escape necessity, yet in his own view he had clearly avoided 
it ; for he distinctly states, that his method does not disturb the 
identity, or mar the unity, into which material and spiritual 
natures are resolvable ; and he repeatedly asserts the freedom 
of the human will. Tliis is perhaps more fully explained in 
the passage, in which, after speaking of the Logos as sponta- 
neously filling the mind with its own ideal imagery, he says, 
" I may will the necessary conditions, but the conditions real- 
ized, the imagery comes of a law above my will." In this 
view there is obviously still room for voluntary eflort in pro- 
ducing the necessary conditions. 

The origin of our knowledge he traces to the same Omni- 
present Reason, ever present in the finite mind, spontaneously 
impressing it with some ideas , and ever ready, on certain con- 
ditions, to impart to it finite portions of its own universal 
knowledge. In regard to the mode of such communications, 
he seems to have held them to be as various as those by which 
finite spirits impart their ideas to each other. We do this by 
signs in the form of written or articulate language, by more 
perfect resemblances, as in painting, or other representations of 
the object, or by action. If to these, we add the power of im- 
mediately com.municating thoughts by mere volition, which is 
claimed by the advocates of animal magnetism, we shall per- 
haps have embraced all the conceivable modes of imparting 
our ideas. All these must of course be at the command of the 
Supreme Intelligence. 

It is manifest that every phenomenon Avhich is produced by 
the creative power, even in the material world, is the result of 
some antecedent, or concomitant idea of ihe Divine mind. 



3;1 

and hence, let tlie (question of the existence or non-existence 
of matter be decided as it may, in the observation of these 
phenomena, we read the thoughts of God as he has himself 
chosen to express them. They are clothed in grandeur and 
beauty, and address themselves, with moving eloquence, to all 
that in our nature admires the good, venerates the holy, is ele- 
vated by the sublime, or awed by the powerful and terrific. In 
thus using material phenomena as one means of communicat- 
ing his thoughts, and consequently a knowledge of his char- 
acter, to finite minds, the question very naturally arises, 
whether the Supreme Intelligence in so doing, has called to his 
aid, or availed himself of the use of some intermediate sub- 
stance distinct from himself, and from all intelligence, and 
moulded his thoughts in it ; or, whether all the phenomena we 
term material are but the direct thought, the imagery of the 
mind of God made palpable to our finite minds. It would 
manifestly be puerile to deny the possibility of this. 

We can all of us, by mental effort, raise imaginary scenes in 
our own minds. We can close our eyes, and by an internal 
power, which is creative in the sj)here of self, call into exist- 
tence a landscape, with its hills and valleys, and forest and lawn, 
and vary the picture as fancy may dictate. Nothing external, 
then, is necessary to such imagery. Suppose we possessed the 
power of transfering this imagery immediately to the mind of 
another person, who should thus behold the imagery of our 
mind, the same as he apprehends that of his own, but being 
unable to vary it by his volitions he would discover that it had 
an existence independent of himself; and this to him would 
constitute it real^ as distinguished from the transitory imagery 
which he himself creates, and changes at will. 

We have then only to suppose the Supreme Intelligence en- 
dowed with this power of directly imparting ideas and images to 
finite minds, to account for all the phenomena of the material 
universe, on the hypothesis, that it is but the imagery of the 
Supreme mind, the thought of God made palpable to us. It is 
obvious that it is only thought and sensation which we receive 
from it, and the phenomena of dreams are alone sufficient to 
show, that no externa) snbstanco is necessary to produce the 



m 

same tlioughts and sensations which we usuahy ascribe to tiie 
direct influence of what we term matter. 

But it will be asked, by those who have not considered this 
point, if it be possible, that all this material universe, which 
we can see and feel, is but a mere creation of the imagination, 
or a mere idea ! 

With the author of Panidea we would reply, that it is no 
mere creation of ow- imaginations ; and we would further add, 
that it certainly is the expression of a mere idea of the Divine 
mind ; and that even supposing it to be only the imagery of 
the mind of God, thus made permanent and palpable to us, it 
is still as real as any existence possibly can be. It exists m- 
dependently of us, and resists, in greater or less degree, our ef- 
forts to change it ; and hence, to us, is as real, as if it were a 
distinct substance existing independent of all intelligence. 

A thought, thus petrified, is as solid as marble ; aye. may be 
very marble itself, as a thought still varying in the infinite 
mind may constitute the heaving billow of the ocean, or the 
waving foliage of the forest. 

That material phenomena are thus entirely the result of 
spiritual action is assumed ; I cannot say I think it is demonstra- 
ted, in Panidea, though there is evidently much argument in its 
favor, as compared with the generally received opinion, that they 
require or imply the existence of a distinct independent sub- 
stance. All that comes under the observation of our own sen- 
ses, is as clearly explicable, or as darkly inexplicable, on the 
one hypothesis, as the other. But if in the present state of the 
question, it would be premature to decide, we may remark, 
that the views adopted in Panidea are recommended by the 
greater simplicity which they presuppose in the plan of crea- 
tion. By thus considering the material as but an efect of 
spiritual action, or a form of thought, all those difficult and em- 
barrassing questions relative to the connexion of soul and body 
spirit and matter, are at once discarded, and we have only to 
consider the action of spirit on spirit, in producing those 
thoughts and sensations directly, which we usually conceive 
to be produced through the medium of a distinct material sub- 
stance. 



li' any one is disposed to urge the almost universal convic- 
tion in opposition to the views adopted on this point in Panidea, 
let him reflect, that the same argument could once have been 
quite as strongly urged against the rotation of the earth, and 
that if such argument is deemed conclusive, no error which has 
obtained general belief can ever be corrected. Or, if any one 
would apply a still more popular test, and supposes he can sub- 
vert this doctrine by knocking his head against a wall, let him 
try the experiment ; and if he learns any thing by his experi- 
ence, it will not be that the wall, or even his head, has any 
such distinct existence as he supposes, but only that a foolish 
mental volition, growing out of an erroneous mental idea, has 
been followed by a painful mental sensation. 

But the utilitarian may still enquire, if all the phenomena 
remain the same, and are equally explicable on either hypoth- 
esis, where is the use in laboring for a solution ? 

Such an enquirer Avould probably not admit that the improv- 
ing exercise of the intellect, the pleasure of gratifying the cu- 
riosity, of ministering to the insatiable desire of knowledge, or 
the beauty of a completed system, nor perhaps even the unan- 
ticipated benefits which usually result from the acquisition of 
truth, would be sufficient inducement to a rational mind, to en- 
gage in such arduous and difficult investigation. Less sensi- 
tive than Memnon's heart of stone, the dawning rays of truth 
awaken no music in his breast. Light, breaking through chaos 
upon a new and beautiful creation, kindles no transport ,in his 
bosom. 

But happily there is a utility in the views we find here en- 
forced, which even he will hardly fail to recognize. Though 
the solution of the problem would not in any wise alter the 
phenomena of the material universe, nor its eflfect in producing 
images or sensations in our minds, it might still materially 
change their influences on our spiritual nature. 

The views adopted in Panidea, are admirably calculated to 
give practical effect to our speculative belief in the Omnipres- 
ence of Deity ; to make us feel that we are ever in his sight ; 
that we may, at all times, conimune directly with the Living 
God. instead of being separated from liiin by the intervention 



38 

of dead matter. There is perhaps no idea more calculated to 
ennoble man, than the thought that he is thus ever the imme- 
diate object of the attention and regard of the Supreme Being, 
and that he may at all times be the recipient of the teachings 
of perfect wisdom, communicated through the senses, in a lan- 
guage of which the purest and loftiest poetry is but a feeble 
imitation ; or imparted in that purely spiritual mode in which 
thought flows directly from mind to mind, and the chorda of 
sense and passion which respond so perfectly to the varying 
tones of nature, are hushed in a presence which fills the whole 
soul with unutterable harmony, awakening an elevated rapture 
which makes it feel that all the material apparatus, though so 
delicate and so potent, so seemingly perfect tor instilling senti- 
ment and kindling emotion, is but a feeble manifestation of 
the power which thus acts directly on the spiritual being. 

The evidence of a strong, a controling desire to reach the 
ultimate, and form a perfect system, is a prominent feature of 
the Avork. As in the material universe each subordinate sys- 
tem, though apparently complete in itself, is but an inconsider- 
able portion of a large, and again of a yet larger system, re- 
volving around centres more and more remote, making a series 
to which the imagination assigns no limits ; so in the order of 
intelligence, every advance seems but to bring into view com- 
binations more and more extensive, increasing the apparent 
distance of the ultimate, and discouraging all efforts to reach it 
through the successive steps of the progression. 

In Panidea we have a vigorous effort to surmount this diffi- 
culty ; to reach at once the common centre of all material and 
mental phenomena, and to find a formula which shall express 
the sum of the infinite series of the progression leading to it. 

That trait of mind which is restless and impatient of imper- 
fection, and seeks completeness in its thoughts, is here strik- 
ingly displayed, while the comprehensiveness of the plan by 
which these results are sought, gives emf)hasis to our previous 
remarks on that characteristic of the author. It extends be- 
yond the former boundary of science to an outer circle, which 
includes the heretofore ultimate principle of gravitation as one 
of its subordinate parts, and embraces under one law, both 



39 

spiritual and material phenomena. This higher and more com- 
prehensive generalization, he designates as the doctrine of as- 
similation. 

This is in harmony with the effort made in the first portions 
of the work, to reason from the material phenomena of vision 
to the abstractions of the intellect, and surmount the difficulty 
of the mind's extended action, by showing that extension itself 
is but a consequence of mental activity, that space is but a 
mere relation of ideas, necessarily arising in the mind, when- 
ever material phenomena, or mental imagery are the objects of 
its thoughts. 

The difficulty of thus reasoning from material to mental 
phenomena will be a23preciated by those, and perhaps only by 
those, who have themselves made the effort. How far it is 
possible to overcome this difficulty, seems to depend on the so- 
lution of the great problem of the mode of matter's existence ; 
which the acutest intellects have long attempted in vain ; and 
we imagine the effort which is made in Panidea must rank 
with those which, though among the most successful, have 
merely enabled us better to apprehend the question itself with- 
out relieving us from its difficulties. 

There is, however, displayed in the work, so much profound 
thought, such acute and thorough investigation of the subjects 
of which it treats, and such logical ability, that even when a 
demonstration appears inconclusive, we may well suspect that 
it may arise rather from our not fully understanding the argu- 
ment, than from any deficiency in the reasoning, which others 
of the present or future time, may more fully comprehend and 
appreciate. 

But now, we would ask, what is there in these views, which 
teach that the Supreme Being is thus absolute in the physical 
creation, and ever present, in his fullness, in every finite mind ; 
that he is there " an ever present helper ;" and that in him 
" we live and move, and have our being," which warrants the 
charge of sceptical tendency, in the sense in which that charge 
is intended? Is there aught in such views to impair our be- 
lief in the existence of God ; to weaken our faith in any of 
his great attributes, or in the verity of his revelations? Or. are 



40 

not their tendencies, rather as the author liimself desired they 
might be, when in the closing paragraph of Panidea he says, "I 
" leave these questions with the reader ; and whatever may 
"be the conclusion to which he shall come, may it be such as 
" shall strengthen his belief in the existence of God in his 
" omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, and benevolence ; 
'' and such as shall inspire him with a new faith in an elevated 
" destiny for man here, and with afresh confidence in a contin- 
"ed existence hereafter." 

It is true, the writer often seems to have ventured far upon 
that ocean of speculation, where with no aid from the usual 
landmarks and charts of thought, " the soul goes sounding on 
its dim and perilous way," but the needle which guides his 
course is still true, still ever pointing to the eternal centre of 
eternal truth. 

That such charges should formerly have been preferred 
against those who attempted any innovation in spiritual 
science, or any extension of its limits, does not appear very re- 
markable, when we reflect that ascendency in spiritual matters 
then carried with it temporal authority, and that hence arose a 
select class, interested in perpetuating prevailing opinions, and 
especially in representing the Supreme Being as widely sepera- 
ted from humanity, occupying an imperial throne in the remo- 
test confines of space, and there holding his august court in 
which the great mass of mankind were permitted to appear 
only by attorney. It certainly was not strauge that those who 
arrogated to themselves the exclusive privilege of pleading in 
the tribunals of Eternal Justice, should denounce the doctrine 
of God's presence in the human soul, ready at all times to en- 
lighten the honest enquirer, by immediate and direct commu- 
nication to his finite spirit, as a heresy fraught with the most 
direful consequences ; or that they should apply the most op- 
probrious epithets to such views, and to those who taught them. 
But in this enlightened age, and in this land of religious liber- 
ty, it would, I trust, be as unjust, as it would be painful, to at- 
tribute this charge of sceptical tendency to such narrow views 
and such mercenary motives. 

That sucli charges are still so commonly brought against all 



li 

innovators in spiritual science, probably arises, in ])art, from rt 
vague idea, that every extension of the jurisdiction of the finite 
mind is an encroachment on the prerogative of the infinite. 
The same apprehension has occasionally been excited even by 
the progress of natural science, and Franklin seems to have been 
sometimes regarded as one, who with daring impiety entered 
the sanctuary of the Most High and stole the thunderbolts of 
Heaven. 

Another reason, and probably that which has oftenest ob- 
tained in honest minds, against the doctrine of direct communi- 
cation of the infinite with finite intelligence, or in other words., 
against the doctrine of immediate inspiration, as the uniform or 
usual mode of Deity, is the apprehension that the truths ad- 
mitted to have been thus revealed, and which are recorded in 
the Bible, will cease to be regarded as extraordinary manifesta^ 
tions of the Divine power, and lose at once their miraculous 
character, and their hold on our faith and reverence. But this 
apprehension should vanish, when we reflect that the evidence 
of their truth is, that they came from the unerring source of 
truth, and not that they were miraculously communicated. The 
first point established, nothing in the mode of communi- 
cation could add to the certainty of the revelation ; and in this 
view, the advocate for the divine authority of the Scriptures, 
would seem to gain no small advantage over the sceptic, by es- 
tablishing that such revelations are a part of the great plan of 
an all-wise Creator. An eclipse of the sun or moon 
was once regarded as a miraculous interposition of Deity to 
chansfe the established order of events, and he who had never 
witnessed one, might have argued from all experience against 
it, and have nurtured his incredulity on the impossibility of 
the sun's being obscured at midday. But when advancing know- 
ledge reveals that such apparent deviations are in reality but a 
part of the uniform plan of creation, all ground for such scepti- 
cism is entirely removed. And if it shall be demonstrated that Di- 
vine revelations to man uniformly enter into the moral system 
of the universe, it would certainly be a very strange logic, 
which from this demonstration would argue a scepticism in 
such revelations. 

U 



But we must turn from this hasty and imperfect review of 
his speculations, to make a few remarks on the individual char- 
acteristics of the author, which time admonishes us must be 
brief. 

To common observation, there was little in the appearance 
or deportment of Judge Durfee which was striking. The fire 
of poetic genius beamed not habitually in his eye, the intensi-^ 
ty of philosophic thought was not written on his brow. Plain 
and unassuming in his manners, and unpretending in conversa- 
'tion, the character of his mind came gradually into view, and 
like the symetrical in art, or the grand in nature, required to be 
dwelt upon before it would be appreciated. But though he did 
not seek to be brilliant, the scientific eye would not long fail to 
discover the sterling gold, the existence of which, the practical 
observer might have already suspected from the absence of the 
tinsel glitter. 

He was thought taciturn, and for this opinion there was 
probably sufficient ground, but when subjects in which he felt 
a deep interest were under discussion, this trait or habit was 
not observable. Touch upon the freedom of the will, the ori- 
gin of evil, the mode of God's government of the material and spir- 
itual, the mode of matter's existence, or any kindred problem, 
and his mind was aroused, his countenance brightened, and 
streams, sparkling with intelligence, flowed freely from the full 
■fountains of thought, which had been silently accumulated. 

He was also thought to be of indolent disposition ; perhaps, 
in the estimation of some of the busy world, an idler, wasting 
time on useless theories, and aimless reveries, but there have 
been few who could so 

"justly in return, 
" Esteem that busy loorld an idler too." 

But he probably was not easily excited by the ordinary mo- 
tives to exertion. Accustomed, in his speculations, to contem- 
plate the grand, the entire, and the ultimate, the particular inci- 
dents of life, on the magnificent scale of his thoughts, must have 
shrunk into comparative insignificance, and hence lost much of 
their exciting influence on voluntary action. 



43 

But the desire ot knowledge, and that love of truth, whicU 
nwere so prominent in his character, in^parted vigorous impulse 
to those powers, which heeded not the ordinary inducements to 
eftbrt. 

It certainly was not wonderful, that one thus habitually ele- 
vated in thought above the purposes of mere organic existence, 
and the pursuits of the bustling crowd, should not enter with 
ardor into their puny competitions for wealth and place. Nor 
should we marvel, that a mind, comprehensive and profound, 
bearing on its broad expanse, the wealth of earth's remotest 
realms, while it reflected in its own tranquil depths the gra.nd- 
eur of a supernal sphere, was not easily 

" into tempest wrought 
" To waft a feather, or to drown a fly." 

But where do we find the evidence of greater and more perse- 
vering eflbrts, and efl'orts directed to the most noble and eleva- 
ting pursuit, than are evinced in his arduous, truth-seeking in- 
vestigations. Verily, if his disposition was indolent, he has 
displayed a wonderful industry and energy in overcoming its 
natural tendencies. 

Had Panidea been his only work, we should probably have 
inferred from it, that his mind was wholly absorbed by the 
reasoning faculty, and hence possessed ni a remarkable degree, 
the power of erecting lofty logical structures, and of penetrating 
by rational formulas to those misty realms, where to feebler 
minds, truth itself yet appears in undefined nebulous confusion. 

But when from it we turn to "Whatcheer," we find that 
these logical powers were united with poetic talents, which, 
with equal cultivation, might have become his most prominent 
characteristic ; that, while, with resistless demonstration, he 
could convince the judgment, and dictate to the intellect, he 
could also sway the affections, and touch the heart with poetic 
fervor. Though these powers, are perhaps not so incompatible as 
has often been supposed, yet the combination of them with both 
in a high degree of perfection, is still very rare, and indicates 
great intellectual ability and versatility of genius. 

The fact, that the poetic and reasoning faculties are respect- 
ively adapted to each of the two principal modes of mental. 



44 

operation ; the one to tlie direct examination of realities, nria- 
terial or spiritual ; the other, to the investigation of the rela- 
tions of these same realities, through the medium of substituted 
terms, and the consideration of the mutual aid they render, and 
the reciprocal protection against the intrusions of error, which 
they accord to each other, may enable us better to appreciate 
the strength and beauty of that mind in which these faculties 
were blended in such full measure, and in such harmonious 
proportions. 

In Judge Durfee these were happily united with that ardent 
love of truth, and exalted philanthropy, which made him feel it 
to be at once the happiness and the duty of his life to devote them 
to the advancement of knowledge, and the elevation of his 
race. 

But his labors in this sublunary sphere are closed forever. 
For such change, however sudden, the wise and good seem 
ever prepared, and as if anticipating his destiny, he had 
already, by his last public effort, completed for himself a 
mausoleum in our past history, where his memory is em- 
balmed, and in the future inscription of which our children 
will learn to appreciate his talents and admire his virtues. 
There is a mournful interest in contemplating his views in con- 
nection with the closing scene of his life. They were al- 
ready so spiritual, that we hardly associate the accustomed 
idea of great and sudden transition with his departure to the 
world of spirits. It seems as if his soul had only gone 
forth to mingle with those vast manifestations of creative 
energy with which, in his system of thought, it was even 
here so completely assimilated, and with whose author it 
was so closely allied by such numerous and interesting rela- 
tions. All existence had, in his mind, assumed a form so ethe- 
rial that we hardly conceive that throwing off its mortal coil 
could have suddenly imparted new spirituality to its concep- 
tions. For him the material universe had already rolled to- 
gether as a scroll, and had fulfilled its great purpose of con- 
ducting thought through the transitory objects of sense to the 
immutable forms of abstract truth, and to the contemplation of 
that higher mode of existence,, whicli is eternal and imperish- 



45 



able. Thus partially anticipated in its high office ol* awaken? 
ing the soul to a life purely spiritual, death to him could have 
no terrors, and to us seems robbed of half its circumstance. An- 
imated by the rational and cheering hope shed upon the future, 
by a life thus marked by a true progress of soul, and in which, 
as he simply expressed it, he had endeavored to do right, with 
calm composure he saw the stern messenger of fate opening 
the portals for his entrance to a new and untried state of ex? 
istence, and died without fear and without ostentation, 



t) L .\ i" 



iO. IbOT. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 111 282 A 



